Night fell heavy over the Hollow. The smoke of the earlier battle still clung to the air, mingling with the damp chill of the river mist. The city’s torches flickered uneasily along the walls, their flames casting long, wavering shadows that danced like restless spirits across the scorched stone.
The defenders tried to rest, but sleep was slow to come. The boy lay curled on his cot in the barracks, eyes wide open in the darkness as muffled sounds of clanking armor and distant hammering drifted in from the wall where repairs were underway.
Lira sat near the doorway, sharpening her blade with steady, deliberate strokes, each rasp of steel on whetstone keeping time with the beat of her thoughts.
“You should sleep,” she said without looking up.
“I can’t,” the boy replied quietly. “Every ti
